Juliet Marillier - Wildwood Dancing

Crucifixes stand all over the rural landscape of Transylvania. They are erected to deflect not only the powers of the devil in this mostly Romanian Orthodox region, but also other entities that may live in the forest—ancient forces that may threaten those who do not respect them.

This is a land where bears and wolves come close to human settlements, a place where snow can lie heavily for up to six months of the year. To survive in such a harsh environment requires a particular understanding of the balance between humankind and wild nature. Certain rituals in which animal masks 402

are worn take place in the more isolated villages at appropriate times of year. These may go back to the practices of the Transylvanians’ ancient ancestors, the tribe of the Dacians, among whom there were both shaman-healers and a warrior caste dedicated to the wolf.

As Paula explains in Wildwood Dancing , the forest provided a refuge for the people of the plateau through hundreds of years of unrest. This enabled Transylvania to retain some autonomy, and a strong sense of identity, despite the presence of such invaders as the Tartars, the Magyars, and the Turks.

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Glossary

Bra¸sov

A merchant town in central

Transylvania. Pronounced Brah- shove

ciorb˘a

Traditional Romanian broth.

Pronounced chor -buh

Constan¸ta

A trading port on the Black Sea coast.

Pronounced Kahn- stahn -tsah

m˘am˘alig˘a

A porridge or cake made with cornmeal

(polenta), and often cooked with sheep

cheese. A staple of the Romanian diet.

Pronounced muh-muh- lee -guh

Piscul Dracului

Devil’s Peak. Pronounced Pis -kul

Drah -koo-looy

poman˘a

A feast for the dead, at which their

worldly goods are given away.

Attended by friends; relatives;

important folk from the village, such as

the judge, priest, and teacher; and poor

people. A spiritual value is attached to

the distribution of the departed one’s

possessions. Can be held at several

significant times after the death: e.g.,

seven days, seven months, one year, or

405

seven years afterward. Pronounced

poh- mah -nuh

Sibiu

A merchant town in central

Transylvania. Pronounced See- bee yoo

¸Tara Româneasc˘a

A region south of Transylvania, also

known as Wallachia. Pronounced Tsah -

rah Roh-muh- neeyes -kuh

T˘aul Ielelor

Lake of the Iele. Iele are female spirits who lure folk to their doom.

Pronounced Tah- ool Yeh -leh-lor

¸tuic˘a

Plum brandy. Pronounced tswee -kuh

Vârful cu Negur˘a

Storm Heights. Pronounced Vur -fool

koo Neh -goo-ruh

voivode

The head of a Transylvanian territory;

princeling. Pronounced voh-yeah- vode

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Pronunciation Guide

to Character Names

Anastasia

Ah-nah- stah -see-yah

Anatolie

Ah-nah- toh -lyeeah

Bogdana

Bohg- dah -nah

Cezar

Cheh -zahr

Costi, Costin

Kohs -tee, Kohs- teen

Dr˘agu¸ta

Druh- goo -tsah

Florica

Flo- ree -kah

Gogu

Goh -goo

Grigori

Gree- goh -ree

Ileana

Eel-leh- ah -nah

Iulia

Yoo -lee-ah

Jena, Jenica

Jeh -nah, Jeh- nee- kah (J pronounced like g in mirage )

Marin

Mah- reen

Nicolae

Nee-koh- lie -eh ( lie rhymes with sky )

Paula

Pow -lah

Petru

Peh -troo

R˘azvan

Rahz- vahn

Salem bin Afazi

Sah -lem bin Ah- fah -zee

Sandu

Sahn -doo

Stela

Stel -ah

Tadeusz

Tah- deh -oosh (deh-oosh almost

one syllable)

Tati, Tatiana

Tah -tee, Tah-tee- ah -nah

Teodor

Teh-oh- dor

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Turn the page for a special preview of the

upcoming companion novel to Wildwood Dancing : CYBELE’S

SECRET

Excerpt copyright © 2008 by Juliet Marillier.

Published by Alfred A. Knopf.

Chapter One

The deck tilted to port, and I tilted with it, grabbing at a rope to keep my balance. One day out from Constanţa, the wind had turned contrary and the waters of the Black Sea rose and fell under the Stea de Mare ’s belly like a testy horse trying to unseat its rider.

“You have excellent sea legs, Paula,” my father commented. He stood perfectly balanced, a veteran of more merchant voyages than he could count. This was my first.

The sail crackled in the wind. The crewmen, grim-jawed and narrow-eyed, were struggling to keep the one-master under control. When they glanced my way, their expressions were hostile.

“It unsettles them to have a woman on board,” my father said. “Ignore it. It’s superstitious nonsense. They know me, and you’re my daughter. If the captain doesn’t like it, he shouldn’t have accepted my silver.”

“It doesn’t bother me, Father,” I said through gritted teeth. Having good sea legs didn’t mean I relished the bobbing motion of the boat or the constant drenching in salt spray. Nor did I much care for the sense that if the Stea de Mare sank, these sailors would put the blame on me. “Is this going to delay us, Father?”

“It may, but Salem bin Afazi will wait for us in Istanbul.

He understands what this means for me, Paula—the opportunity of a lifetime.”

“I know, Father.” There was a treasure waiting for us in the great city of the Turks, the kind of piece merchants dream of laying their hands on just once in their lives. Father wouldn’t be the only prospective buyer. Fortunately, he was a skillful negotiator, patient and subtle.

When he had first agreed to take me with him, it had been to allow me to broaden my horizons now that I was in my eighteenth year, to let me see the world beyond the isolated valley where we lived and the merchant towns of Transylvania that we sometimes visited.

But things had changed on the journey. Just before we were due to embark, Father’s secretary, Gabriel, had tripped coming down a flight of steps in the Black Sea port of Constanţa. The resultant broken ankle was now being tended to in the physician’s house there while the Stea de Mare bore Father and me on to Istanbul. It was most fortunate that I spoke perfect Greek and several other languages and that I had Father’s full trust. While I could not take Gabriel’s place as his official assistant, I could, at the very least, be his second set of ears. It would be a challenge. I could hardly wait.

The wind had brought rain, the same drenching spring rain that fell on our mountains back home, flooding streams and soaking fields. It scoured the planks of the deck and wrapped the ship in a curtain of white. From where I stood, I could barely see the sail, let alone the bow cutting its way through choppy seas. The crew must be steering our course blind.

Father was shouting something above the rising voice of the wind, perhaps suggesting we should go below until things calmed down. I pretended not to hear. The tiny cabins we had been allocated were stuffy and claustrophobic. Being enclosed there only emphasized the ship’s movement, and one could not lie on the narrow bunk without dwelling on how exactly one would get out should the Stea de Mare decide to sink.

“Get down, Paula!” Father yelled. A moment later a huge, dark form loomed up behind us. A scream died in my throat before I could release it. Another ship—a tall three-master, so close I screwed my eyes shut, waiting for the sickening crunch of a collision. It towered above us. The moment it hit us, we would begin to go down.